


Call the Shots

by blastocyst



Series: Spooky Art Challenge [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Crossdressing, Fluff, M/M, Roleplay, Slight Future Fic, Spooky Art Challenge, emetophobia warning, migraines
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-07
Updated: 2014-10-07
Packaged: 2018-02-20 07:00:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2419424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blastocyst/pseuds/blastocyst
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yamaguchi tries to make the best of a bad situation. </p><p>[Written for day six of the <a href="http://spoopyartchallenge.tumblr.com/post/98009756313/what-better-way-to-celebrate-halloween-then-a-31">Spooky Art Challenge</a>.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Call the Shots

   Tadashi Yamaguchi might just be the best boyfriend ever.

   It's hard not to run home after school, with Tsukki's classwork from the day weighing his bag down along with his own. He has to skip volleyball practice, but with just one flash of the newest text in his inbox, the team would understand.

**tsukki♥ (08:11am)**  
 **sick**

   He has to be in the rankings, at least. High on the leaderboards; _Tadashi, #1 best at making the best of bad situations_. He runs straight up to his bedroom and throws his bag down, changing quickly. His uniform is replaced with the outfit he's been saving for a while now. It's a little dusty from it's time in the closet, and he shakes it out before he pulls it on, zipping up the back with a satisfied smile at himself in the mirror.

   A borrowed hoodie over the top hides everything, leaving the impression that he's wearing shorts instead - even though there isn't much height difference between them, Tsukki's sweaters and hoodies always hang down to his thighs, Yamaguchi's irritatingly fast metabolism and narrow shoulders making it impossible to match the breadth that these clothes are designed for.

   At this time of year, it's only a little breezy, and not too many people will see his bare legs on the way to Tsukki's house, anyway. Once upon a time, he would've been distraught over it, but after years of wearing volleyball uniforms and growing slowly accustomed to Tsukki's eyes on him in more intimate settings, it doesn't matter so much.

   He slips the last of his accessories into his bag, and scribbles a quick note in the kitchen saying he'll be home late.

  
~*~

  
   Yamaguchi fidgets in front of Tsukki's front door. He's been here a million times, but it still makes him a little anxious to knock and potentially have to face to Tsukki's parents or, on holidays, his very tall and very intimidating older brother.

   Today, the driveway is clear of cars, and it's too early for anyone to be home. That is, unless they were taking a sick day from school, resting in bed and just _dying_ for someone to come along and cheer them up. The thought makes his face grow a little warmer, flushing hot beneath freckled skin. 

   He raps twice in quick succession, and then, without missing a beat, unzips the front of the hoodie and retrieves the last parts of his ensemble from his bag - a nurse's hat, soft and white with a red cross on the front, which he perches on top of his head, and a surgical mask, which goes over his mouth. He breathes experimentally, the air humid and warm between the fabric and his skin.

   Nobody answers the door.

   Yamaguchi fidgets again.

   Five firm, loud knocks later, and the door finally creaks open.

   Yamaguchi had been expecting some sniffling, maybe a red nose at the worst. What greets him takes him by surprise so much that he stumbles backwards, bringing his fingertips his lips to make sure the mask is still there, that he definitely won't catch whatever hellish disease Tsukki has.

   His hair is ruffled from either too much sleep or not enough. Red-rimmed and dark-shadowed hazel eyes narrow as they look him over, glaring pointedly at the nurse's hat and the short, white costume dress, thermometer in the pocket and all.

   "Nice shoes," is his only remark. Yamaguchi looks down and frowns; they're his regular school shoes, shiny and smart.

   "I... I walked," he says by way of explanation. When he looks up again, Tsukishima is still regarding him like he doesn't quite understand what Yamaguchi is doing on his doorstep. "Tsukki," he breathes, and Tsukishima looks up at him, meeting his eyes as though waiting for something. He reaches out to touch Tsukki's bare arm, and finds it cold and damp with sweat. "You're so pale..."

   Tsukki doesn't reply. Instead, he glances back over his shoulder, and then moves aside, holding the door open. Yamaguchi steps inside, and by the time he's removed his shoes, Tsukki is already half-way up the stairs, walking away like he doesn't have a guest to wait around for. "Tsukki, wait!" he tries, but it doesn't work. He calls up the stairs as Tsukishima disappears, his footsteps still audible from the other side of the hallway. "What's wrong?"

   "It's not contagious," Tsukishima responds in a monotone. His voice has a strange echo to it, and when Yamaguchi gets upstairs, he sees why; instead of going to his bedroom as usual, Tsukishima is sitting in the bathroom, on the floor, beside the toilet. The door is open, and Yamaguchi takes it as an invitation. "You don't have to wear the mask."

   He tucks his skirt beneath his thighs, wincing at the feeling of cold bathroom tiles on his bare legs. Tsukishima is resting with his back against the bathtub, and Yamaguchi does the same. It isn't comfortable. The lights are out, the blinds closed.

   Carefully, Yamaguchi removes the mask and slips it into his pocket. Tsukishima doesn't watch him do it. Giving in to curiosity, he ventures, "Are you going to be sick?"

   Tsukki gives a minute nod. "Eventually."

   "Oh." Yamaguchi nods too. He can't hide the pity in his tone. "Food poisoning?"

   "Mm-" The word is cut short when Tsukishima claps a hand over his mouth, his eyes fluttering closed. His throat works, and his whole body tenses - Yamaguchi wants to push him gently towards the toilet bowl so he doesn't make a mess of himself, but after a moment, he recovers with a swallow and a grimace. "Migraine."  
  
   "Oh," Yamaguchi says again. He hesitates. "I thought that was a type of headache."

   That, at least, has Tsukishima cracking a smile. On closer inspection, it's really more of a smirk, but Yamaguchi will take what he can get. "It is. I'm just one of the lucky ones." At Yamaguchi's uncomprehending stare, he sighs. "I just puke and then pass out, basically."

   Another nod, and they fall into silence. Yamaguchi can't help fiddling with his thermometer, conversation failing him completely. Tsukishima doesn't make it easy, and it's infinitely harder when he's sitting there in a skimpy Halloween costume, compared to Tsukki's much more sensible t-shirt and pyjama pants.

   Yamaguchi clicks his tongue. "So... no sexy nursing, then, Tsukki?" His skin squeaks against the tiles as he moves a little closer. Their legs press firmly together, shoulders bumping, his face angled to give that hopefully-seductive look from beneath his eyelashes that he's practices a hundred times in the mirror. "Are you sure?"

   In lieu of an answer, Tsukishima abruptly leans forward and retches into the toilet.

   Yamaguchi is struck with the sudden urge to hold back Tsukki's hair or glasses or anything, really, but his hair is too short and his glasses are safely folded by the sink and all he can do is rub the older boy's heaving and trembling back, mumbling the most soothing things he can think of. He's strangely unaffected by the sounds of vomit splattering the porcelain.

   "I'm sure," Tsukishima gasps out between waves, and as inappropriate as it would be, Yamaguchi almost laughs because _yeah_ , this isn't exactly the setting he had in mind. He tells Tsukki as much, politely looking away while the blond attempts to wipe away the reflex tears streaming down his cheeks before he starts to gag again.

   "I really didn't think it would be this bad." Yamaguchi speaks absently, between rubbing Tsukishima's back and wadding up toilet paper, which the blond occasionally reaches for to intermittently clean his mouth and the toilet seat. "I thought you had a cold." He gently squeezes Tsukishima's shoulder, just in time to feel the muscles tense with another heave. "I was trying to be cute."

   "Well, you look ridiculous," Tsukishima says, bluntly, as he once again wipes his mouth with some toilet paper that Yamaguchi helpfully offers. He leans back from the toilet, and the way his eyes linger a moment too long on the hem of the dress, stark white against freckled upper thighs makes the statement hard to believe. "I think it's over." His voice is raw, and he coughs, pitifully, one last time. "You didn't have to watch."

   He's shaky getting to his feet, and Yamaguchi extends a hand to help him up. "I wasn't _watching_ ," he pretends to huff as Tsukishima leans on him a little more an he expected, sending them both stumbling into the wall. "I was helping."

  
~*~

   
   Tsukishima grimaces. "I should brush my teeth if you're going to sit that close."

   They're curled up in Tsukki's bed, facing each other and touching nowhere but where their ankles are crossed, a small reminder of each others' presence. Despite how cold the tiles made them, they warm quickly beneath the covers, squeezed into Tsukishima's single bed as they are.

   Yamaguchi blinks in surprise; Tsukishima's eyes are so heavy lidded, he was sure the older boy was only moments away from drifting into sleep. "I don't mind."

   "My breath." Tsukishima sleepily moves a hand to cover his mouth. "'s gross."

   "Maybe you should wear the mask, if it bothers you." Yamaguchi pulls it from his pocket and throws it, lightly, onto Tsukishima's face. It falls across his eyes, and his shoulders shake with something that could be weak laughter.

   "No, no, this is much better." Yamaguchi braces himself for a comment about his appearance - more specifically, regarding the costume, which he's still wearing. He'd been in too much of a hurry to get into bed with Tsukki that he hadn't even thought to change. "Helps... with the headache."

   With a hum of understanding, Yamaguchi lets himself relax into the mattress. Tsukishima's bedroom is familiar, even in the dullness of early evening. If he averts his eyes, he can see the shadows of model dinosaurs against the far wall.

   "Tsukki..." Yamaguchi studies the half-asleep blond's face as well as he can when most of it is covered. He can still see the crease of Tsukishima's brows, the tension that lets him know he's listening. "Do I really look ridiculous?" At the lack of a response, he shows a small smile that Tsukishima won't see, schools his tone into one of concern. "Maybe I should throw this one out...?"

   "Just," Tsukishima says, the way he always does before _shut up_. Yamaguchi snuggles a little closer. "Let me _pretend_ to be ill next time, okay?"

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> if you were wondering, "call the shots" is a slogan associated with nursing, which i thought was very cute. ^^


End file.
